A Helping Hand
by mangyhalfbreed
Summary: Ellie's life seems to consist of nothing but never ending hardship. An orphan since the mere age of eleven, homeless and hungry. She learned quickly that asking for help would get her nothing. Nothing but a sneer or perhaps a look of disgust. Maybe even pity. Luckily for her, the man in the hood doesn't need to be asked. (Rated M for language.)


"Get off of me, you bastard!" Snarled the fourteen-year-old girl. Her ratty, auburn locks were tied back with an equally ratty-looking pink ribbon. Rather than an elegant dress lined with laces and frilly sleeves, she was dressed in a black pair of boy's breeches, much too big for her. Her long-sleeved shirt was white, dirty. Her dull, brown shoes tied the look together quite well. Ellie herself is dangerously thin. She's essentially a pale bag of bones. Her eyes, however, big and blue as ice…the spark held within them refuses to dim. They glow. They _pierce._

"What do we 'ave here, eh?" Grinned the gap-toothed man, his grip tightening around her upper arm. "You ain't a lad, is ya'? Nah…nah, you's a little lady." His eyes narrowed, upper lip curling into a grimace. "A little girl who decided to steal from me." He snorted in amusement.

And she would've succeeded if hunger hadn't weakened her so severely. Much to her dismay, she's become sloppy and desperate. Normally, she's the best damn pickpocket from here to fuckin' Cuba, yessiree. But she can only carry on for so long without sustenance, without fuel.

"Congratulations, mate," Ellie growled from deep within her throat, giving her body another violent jerk. "You're a bloody genius. Now I'll say it once more…let go…or I'll cut your cock in half—" his mouth dropped open and she relished the look of surprise,"—and feed it to the first fuckin' mongrel I see. Do you understand now?"

The man pulled back a single balled fist, his face red. He brought it towards her face in a swing. "You nasty little cu—!"

His slur was cut short, leaving him to omit a cry of pain instead. Below him, the corners of Ellie's mouth tipped upwards into a wry smirk, her small dagger jutting out of the brute's beefy thigh. She gave the dagger a slow twist and he released her within the next instant, collapsing to the cold ground. He threw his head back and howled.

_"YOU BITCH! **YOU FUCKING BITCH, **YOU'RE DEAD!"_ He roared. _"GUARDS! GUARDS!"_ He continued to bellow, his sheer volume causing Ellie to squint in discomfort.

Dagger in hand, she froze. Mingled shouts of men and women alike began to fill the streets. The redcoats heavy footsteps pounded against the cobblestone. Ellie turned heel and ran. Ran for her life.

"I've got a shot!"

_No. No, no, zig-zag. You'll miss the bullet. Zig-zag!_ RUN!_ DON'T YOU DARE LET THEM—_

The rifleman fired.

She expected death, blackness. But instead felt her right side _explode_ in pain. Ellie ducked into the nearest alleyway and continued to run, swaying from side to side as her vision blurred.

"God help me," she whispered to herself, her breathing jagged and shallow. "_Help me_…" Her legs gave out and she fell. Hard. Rolling onto her back, blood pooled around her.

This is how it would end. A life of struggling and thievery led to a cold, lonely and painful death. How proud her parents must be. She'll be joining them soon, at any rate.

There was a presence. She could feel them there, standing several feet away from her. Ellie lifted her head, fighting against stubbornly drooping eyelids. There was a man lingering amongst the darkness. She actually managed to smile. "Cheers…" She said shakily. "Here to—…to finish what they started, mister?"

"Shut your gob," he said clearly, waltzing into the moonlight. He pulled back his hood, revealing a head of blonde hair. "What were you _thinking?_ Idiot kid," he mumbled to himself, crouching beside her.

A bolt of indignation was quick to shoot through her. "What'd you—"

"I said,_ quiet._" He snapped, a strong arm wrapping around her shoulders. "Save your energy. I'm trying to keep you from bleeding out like a stuck pig," he tried to reason, his opposite arm going under her knees. "Take a deep breath. We must move away from here. Quickly." He stood up, holding the teenager against his chest. She uttered a muffled cry.

"I'm sorry," the stranger murmured. Ellie thought it was genuine. And to her amazement…he began to run. Run, with her in his arms.

"W-what are you…? _Why?_"

"I dislike repeating myself," he panted, quickly rounding a corner. "I'm here to help you. Why?" He seemed to honestly ponder this as he sprinted, clearly trying his best not to jostle her. "Because I can. Because you need me to."

Ellie stared up at him in complete disbelief. "But you're risking your very life!" She whispered fiercely. "For _me!_ And I'm…I'm going to…" Her head lolled back, her grip on reality slipping.

"Stay awake!" She heard him bark.

"_Please_ don't let me die…"

That rendered him silent for several moments, minus his quick snatches of breath. Slowly, he came to a stop. His eyes hesitantly met her own. "You aren't going to die, lass. Not tonight. That is a promise."

"A promise?" She softly inquired, forcing a small smile out of him in return.

"Aye. If nothing else, Edward Kenway is a man of his word."

She quite liked the sound of his name. "Ellie…" the girl sighed in exhaustion, his face growing dimmer. "I'm…" She was drifting.

"Ellie?"

Her eyes closed, a strange tingling sensation spreading throughout her limbs.

"Oi, open your eyes!"

Oh, she wanted to.

"You _mustn't sleep_, do you hear me? Damn it, girl!" His large hand firmly tapped against the left side of her cheek.

Oddly enough, she felt content. Because for the first time since the death of her mother and father, somebody helped her. He stayed by her side. Now…now she won't die alone.

And that's enough.


End file.
